Red
by Blueowl
Summary: What was going inside their minds during the events of ‘Active Threat’? and what are they going through now?
1. Pt 1

**Title: Red - Part 1**

Characters: Jed, Abbey, Charlie, Jacobs, Ron, Millie, and the rest of the Staff  
Summary: What was going inside their minds during the events of 'Active Threat'? and what are they going through now?  
Spoilers: None that I know of Warning: Minor language, and detailed descriptions  
Disclaimer: The characters depicted in this story belong to NBC, WB, and Aaron Sorkin. They do not belong to me, I wish, but they don't  
Feedback: Will be joyously read.  
Author's Notes: Might be helpful to read 'Active Threat'  
Told from their eyes, (see **Bold**) and told in 3rd person.

* * *

**Charlie**

That whole month just seemed to never end. From the riots in Venezuela, to the car bombs and pipe bombs going off in our country's streets...and then the attempt on Jed Bartlet's life...

I pray I will never see a time like that again.

When the Order had finally been taken down, and we went back to the White House, it was surreal.

People continued to work, continued to go on with their lives, and for a moment, I thought I was loosing my mind. Have they all forgotten what had happened? But then, I saw, no, it is not that...  
.  
.  
.  
Ok, where do I begin? I suppose when they handed me that note to hand to the President.  
Just the way they handed it to me, and how they said not to glance at it, I knew something was about to start.

And then the President's quick reply confirmed my suspicions. This was big.

I later found out that a threat had been made, or as the Order so bluntly put it, 'a promise'.

When I met Lee Jacobs I thought what I always think when a new agent joins the secret service. He is just going to start out low, doing security sweeps, keeping a perimeter, that kind of thing.

Well, not Jacobs.

I talked with Jacobs outside of the Oval Office the day he was to meet the President. He was nervous, waiting to be summoned in to meet the President.

"New?" I asked, as he shuffled his feet slightly.  
"Yeah...I'm that obvious?" he asked, looking at me. I nodded a little.  
"First time to meet the President?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Well, the thing to remember about him is that he likes his space. Doesn't really care for the whole protection thing, he says it makes him feel confined..." I told him. It must have been something I said because Jacobs seemed to loose some color.

"So are you going to be assigned to his detail, or are you just going to work during large events?" I asked.  
"Oh...I am going to be his new personal agent..." he said quietly. I was speechless.

'Man, poor guy...' I thought. 'And I had felt sorry for Ron...' but then I started thinking a little more into it. They were really taking this threat seriously, to now be assigning a personal agent who will be with him nearly everywhere...

"Well..." I began, after my pity for him mellowed. "He is a great man, and once he gets to know you, you'll do fine."

Jacobs didn't look so sure.

Just then, Ron peeked out, motioning Jacobs to come in.

- - -

**Jacobs**

When I had been told that I would protect the President, I thought there was some kind of mistake.

But there wasn't.

I don't really understand why they had chosen me. They told me it was because of my experience and ability to think on the spot, and that I had shown myself in previous situations. Yeah...right...

So there I was, walking into the Oval office, just having left this one kid named Charlie who just told me the President doesn't like excessive protection...

_G r e a t_, he's going to love me.

I understood completely why they had increased the security around the President, after what the Order did, it was clear what their intentions were.  
Right when I walked in I knew Jed Bartlet was not at all happy at the prospect of yet another security precaution.

I think I looked nervous, and I knew I was sweating despite the noticeably cooler temperature of the room.  
The President stood up and extended his hand over the grand desk. I took it, trying not to let my hand shake as I reached to take his.

Wow, if I knew what was to come at that time...how, literally, his life was going to be in my hands…

"Good to meet you sir..." I said, attempting a nod.  
"So, you are going to...?" he asked, looking to Ron for details.

I silently held my breath as Ron answered. The president didn't like this, but he gave me a welcoming nod despite of it.

- - -

Jed was still so sore, his chest still had to be wrapped to help support his ribs, and he was only allowed to walk short distances, and stand for a certain amount of time, which wasn't much at all. That little talk with the nation had really taken it out of him, and Abbey was going to make sure he wouldn't make it worse.

Abbey had talked to a few doctors right after Jed had arrived and had immediately gone to sleep in the residence.  
Abbey and the three doctors were standing in a hall, Ron near as to learn what would need to be done to help keep Jed safe.

"Mrs. Bartlet, in my opinion he should still be in a hospital..." one of the doctors began, slightly in a tone that spoke down to Abbey.  
"We can do just what a hospital would do for him here, if not more." Abbey stated back, catching his tone, but trying to look passed it.

"Mrs. Bartlet, he still has a lot of healing to do, and how he is here right now and not in a hospital, I don't know. They should not have released him. He needs to return to a hospital so he will be under the supervision of doctors..." he said, again treating her as if she didn't know squat and was never a doctor.

Abbey was getting mad. She knew that Jed would heal faster at home or in the residence, and forcing him into a hospital would not do him any good, it might even make him worse, and not only that, it would make him deeply depressed.

"He is not going back to a hospital. How would that look? What would that tell the nation? It would look like something was wrong with him, besides, it's not like we can't get equipment here that a hospital has," Abbey reminded them. "Millie, you know he will do better here than anywhere else..." she added, talking to Millie, the Surgeon General.

"Yes..." she nodded, knowing it was true. The jerk doctor apparently was getting annoyed at seeing the Surgeon General agree with Abbey.

He then continued; Millie, now too, was getting slightly annoyed with this man.

"Mrs. Bartlet, his injuries were severe, he still needs to be monitored, he still needs..."

Ok, now she had had it.

"Do you think I don't see that? "Have you not realized that - I - was there when they brought him in?!?  
"Have you forgotten that I saw him, lying there not moving, pale, and bleeding!?!?!  
"I _know_ how much blood he lost, I k n o w how close he was to death, and I sure as h e l l know how to help him get better, and it sure isn't in any d a m n hospital!!!"

Alright, she probably shouldn't have yelled, shouldn't have raised her voice to chew him out, but he was being stupid. He did not know Jed like her, and he was being a smart ass.

Abbey simply stared at this slightly beyond middle-aged doctor who was a jerk through and through.

She then watched him turn, unable to hide some of his shock as he walked off.

"Ron." Abbey spoke, making Ron take a step up towards her as she watched that man walk down the hall towards the exit.  
"Yes?" he asked.  
"I don't want him treating Jed -at all-," she said, partly wondering how he even was allowed in the building to begin with.

It was not that she felt he would hurt Jed or anything, well sort of; but it was really because she didn't want Jed hurting _him_ when he found out what had just happened. Though, honestly, she could care a less about that doctor's well being, she was more concerned about Jed hurting himself in the process of giving that man what he deserved, a pounding.

"Mrs. Bartlet, we can send for equipment right now," Ron told her, watching her anger calm.

She nodded, leaving to the residence, leaving the other doctors, still in slight shock, in the hall.

- - -

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	2. Pt 2

**Red - Part 2**

* * *

**Abbey**

I went to the residence; I wanted and needed to check on Jed.  
We had placed someone in the room with him just as a precaution, and it had slightly worried me that Jed had not objected, but simply hit the pillow and went to sleep.

It was about 7 pm when I quietly entered the quiet room. I found Jed in bed, sound asleep, his chest just barely able to rise and fall within all of those wrappings, but he was fine.

He would be fine.

Jacobs gave me a slight nod and stepped towards the door, thinking I wanted to be alone.  
I did want to be alone, and yet I didn't.

"No, you can stay," I whispered.

He looked slightly surprised, but stepped back in place and at attention, almost disappearing into the wall itself.

Oh, what a marvel I was looking at:

Jed.  
Asleep.  
And in the afternoon, nowhere near his normal bed time.

The equipment would be coming up soon; if they weren't already in the hall outside, I would be surprised.

Jed must have felt me staring at him because he opened his eyes.

"Oh, don't trust me, so you've gone to the point of watching me sleep, huh?" Jed asked me, clearly exhausted, but not to the point of preventing his sarcasm from showing.  
"Caught red handed…" I replied, smiling. He then tried to sit up. "No, Jed. Don't get up; you can stay in bed while we bring in the equipment."  
"What equipment?" Jed asked, not knowing of the little 'chat' in the hall, or of the equipment.  
"The heart monitor, the IV pole…" I began only to be cut off by Jed.  
"I thought I was out of the hospital." He stated, probably louder than he intended.  
"We want to be safe," I answered.

"How much safer can I get? I've got armed guards right outside these doors, a whole platoon of 'em all over the grounds, -and- one right in this room," pointing at Jacobs, holding in the grimace at having moved quickly, but I noticed.

Jed wasn't liking this, but if he knew what that jerk doctor wanted to do, he would take this in a heartbeat.

"Jed, if you won't do it for your sake, do it for mine," I said, knowing that would get his attention.

He looked at me.

"Abbey, I am fine, just sore and a little tired, nothing that sleep and time won't fix."  
"Jed, I know you understand how hurt you were, but you must realize, we need to continue to monitor you. Your heart had retained some bruising, and we want to be safe."  
"Do I have to be hooked up all the time?" Jed asked, knowing I wasn't going to let him win this one, so trying to negotiate.  
"I tell you what, we will just hook you up at night," I compromised.

"And the IV's?" he asked, just having been freed from them, he was dreading the possibility of becoming their prisoner once again.  
"No IV's unless we feel you need them," I agreed.  
"Ok," he said, relaxing onto the bed all the way.  
"Ok," I replied just as Jacobs put his hand up to his ear.  
"They have the equipment here Mrs. Bartlet," he told me.

- - -

That night they had brought the equipment into the residence, quickly transforming it into a kind of hospital, though much more to Jed's liking. The doctors still wanted to be safe, as did Abbey, hooking him up to heart monitors and such at least when he slept at night, and they kept a close eye on his temperature, the last thing they wanted was an infection, or worse…

He was not hooked up to the IV's, however, if need be, they could.

The stitches were still in, to Jed's disgust, and had a simple patch over them.  
It had only been one day since he had left the hospital and flown back to the White House, and it was now about 10 am.

"Abbey, can't I go to the Oval?" Jed asked.  
"No Jed, you are lucky I am even letting you read those files." Abbey stated, walking back in from the bathroom.

Jed stopped his fuss, putting his glasses back on his face, carefully looking down at the page. The last thing he wanted to do was to 'pop' any more stitches.

"Have you seen anybody?" Jed asked, speaking of Josh, Toby and the others.  
"Jed, it is 10 am, they are probably working and think you are asleep," Abbey said, stealing half of the file stake in front of him.  
"Hey! I wasn't done with those!" Jed said, attempting to snatch them back, but stopping himself at feeling the tension in his ribs.  
"Yes, you are," she stated. "Do you understand the word 'rest'?"

"Do you understand the word 'b o r e d o m'?" he asked, eyeing her, clearly emphasizing the last word.  
"Jed, how do you expect to heal if you don't rest?"  
"Abbey, I am in bed, I had over ten hours of sleep last night. What do you want me to do? Sleep like Rick Van Winkle?" he asked.

Abbey was about to reply when someone knocked on the door.

Before Abbey could stop him, Jed summoned them in.

"Come in!" he called.

Leo carefully stepped in.

"Ah, Leo," Jed said, happy to see him.  
"Good morning sir. Doing work already?" he asked, noting the small pile before him, and a bigger pile in Abbey's arms.  
"I was…" Jed said, Abbey flashing him a look.

"Just wanted to see if you were awake, sir," Leo said, taking note of all of the machines in the room.  
"Anything going on?" Jed asked; attempting to sit up more, Leo noticing the trouble he was having trying to do so.

- - -

**Leo**

I still could not believe that just a few weeks ago everything was so different.

Jed could move without pain and America had not suffered the loss of life.  
My friend had not nearly died; he would not be still in bed, but in the Oval Office.  
He wouldn't be so weak and sore, wouldn't have his chest wrapped, and wouldn't have that bandage on the side of his neck.

"Leo?" Jed asked, seeing I was just standing there. I suddenly realized both Abbey and Jed were giving me worried looks.

"Oh. No, no, just came in to see how you're doing, and to check in."

"O-k," Jed said, "anything I need to do?"

"Yeah, get some rest, and let the rest of us take care of everything," I said, unable to hide the smile that crossed my face as he rolled his eyes.

I left with a smile, thankful my friend was still here, and that I could still tease him.

- - -

**CJ**

Was it really in these halls where I was running? Needing to find the President or Leo? Knowing that we needed to get a handle on the, at the time, recent attack before there was a panic?

Several cities had been hit. Countless car bombs it seemed…and countless lives…

I found Jed and Leo were already right on top of it, just as they should, when I met up with them in one of the Halls in the West Wing. The President immediately asking if I had the press ready.

I had, of course.

Jed will never cease to amaze me in the way he can seize the floor with simply entering a room. The way he takes over, every eye on him, all focused, not only on him, but what he is saying.

And he certainly said it all when he addressed the nation concerning the first attack.

I felt the mood change in the room from fear, shock and uncertainty, to resolve, confidence, and readiness as he completed his statement, saying these words:

"I stand before you now, not only as your president, but as a fellow American, asking all who hear my voice and who love this great nation, to stand as one. We must be vigilant, we must be watchful; we must be ready. For these terrorists are not going to stop unless we make them.

"They will try to hit us again, but we will be prepared; the tables shall be turned, and it will be because of us, standing together."

This is the Man I serve; this is the Man I respect.

- - -

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	3. Pt 3

**Red - Part 3**

* * *

**Jed**

Abbey is beside me. I presume, sleeping. I hear her relaxed breathing, and smell the scent of fresh shampoo in her hair.

I'm too tired to roll over to get a good look at her…  
Probably wouldn't be able to anyway unless I wanted to hurt myself…

But she is here.

I am so tired, and yet I cannot sleep. My mind is going too fast. Thinking about everything that has happened.

And then I try and stop myself.  
But fail.  
As I then find myself in that black limo that is no longer black…

But Red.

"Jed?" I hear Abbey's voice and the nightmare suddenly goes away.

I know she heard my sigh of relief.

"Jed? You ok?" she asks.

"Yeah, just can't sleep…" I whisper, just staring up to the ceiling.

"I can get something that will help," she told me, sitting up and placing a weightless hand on my chest.

I don't really know why, but I reach up and grasp it.  
My lifeline.

I carefully reach up with my left arm, my right hand holding hers, gently pulling her down to me.

She doesn't fight me, coming to rest on my left side, careful near the location of the bruises. Her head rests on my shoulder, her scent now filling me up, and calming me, my mind no longer a jumble of what was, but a soft feeling of what is.

I close my eyes, and I drift.

- - -

**Jacobs**

It was now morning, and my post was right outside the door of the President's bedroom. I would enter only if I was called, or when the President was in there alone.

I stood there, unable to stop myself from thinking. I swear, I think thinking can be the most hazardous thing, though not always bad.

I think back.

I was in the Oval Office, standing with the President, just after he had gotten the details of the pipe bomb attacks, when Ron walked in.

The look on Ron's face was dread.

Leo had gone, apparently not joking when he said he wanted to be no where near Ron when Jed told him he wanted to go to the cities hit.

"Sir, there is no guarantee that we could protect you, I mean, some of the places hit are really damaged pretty bad, there are just too many risk factors…" Ron began.

And then I saw the Jed Bartlet everyone had told me about.

"Ron, that is one reason why I am determined to go. How can I expect the American people to stand together when I am not one among them? How can I continue to encourage the American people to keep an eye out for those who would want to cause us harm when I myself have not seen first hand the damage that they have caused? How can I lead from behind a desk when I have not come face to face with the people who have stepped in front of the enemy and stopped them? I will not stand idly by, handing out orders when I do not truly know the terror that the People have endured."

I felt myself stiffen in pride, suddenly very-very proud to be in the presence of this Man.  
Truly a Man of the People.

- - -

**Charlie**

"Charlie?"

I looked up to find CJ staring at me.

"Huh?" I asked.  
"You ok?" she asked me, having found me staring into space.  
"Yeah. Do you need me to do something?" I asked.

"No. It's just, you've been quiet today…" she said, studying my face. "You sure you're ok?" she asks again.

I nod, trying to look convincing.

"Thinking?" she asked.

I nod, not really knowing what to say.

"Me too," she whispered.

- - -

**CJ**

I can only imagine what Charlie feels right now.  
Just trying to imagine what he went through…

Thinking back I cringe at the whole memory of it all. Seeing the bombed out buildings, where just a day or so ago they were a shop or a business.  
How chaotic it must have been.  
Finding one self in a war-zone like environment.

Then Jed coming to me, telling me we were going.

Hindsight can really suck sometimes…  
I can't help but fight with myself.  
I should have told him my feelings.  
Should have told him there was a risk.

Said something.

But I didn't.

I know it's stupid to think I could have done something.  
And I know no matter what anyone did, he was going to do it.

That is just the Man he is.  
And that's why he's a great president…  
but that's also why he is now still resting in the residence…

- - -

**Ron**

"Jacobs." I came to a stop outside the President's bedroom, Jacobs, and another, standing guard.

"Sir," was his reply.

"They're still sleeping?" I asked, looking at my watch.

11:24am.

"Yes, sir."

"Have you heard anything?" I asked, wondering if Abbey was up.  
"No, haven't heard a thing."  
"Hmm." Surly Abbey should be awake…  
"Is something wrong?" Jacobs asked me.  
"No, but it is a little late isn't it?"

I really hate to do this, but I need to make sure they are alright; it is just too weird that one of them is not up already…

I knock.  
No answer.  
I knock a little louder.  
No answer.

Ok, now I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little worried.

"Mr. President? Mrs. Bartlet?" I ask, creaking the door open.

What I found made me almost smile.  
I know Jacobs did.

The President and the First Lady sleeping away. Abbey resting on Jed's left shoulder, his arms around her.

I glanced at the monitors; everything was fine.  
I stepped out, quietly closing the door.

Josiah Bartlet, the man I serve and protect.  
The man who hates the idea of someone stepping in front of a bullet for him.  
The man who argued with me about whether or not to wear the vest that saved his life.

"Ron, is that really necessary?" he asked me, looking at the vest in my hands.

V e r y necessary I knew, and had I known what was to come…

I didn't back down, and I believed he would wear the vest so much, I would have forced it on him, and I am sure his wife would have helped me.

He finally agreed to it, but not without a retort.

"You are going to wear it the whole time we are on the ground, sir," I stated.  
"Are you going to make me wear a helmet too?" he quipped back.

"If I had everything my way sir… I think you know the answer to that question," I replied.

Was that really just last week?

- - -

**Jacobs**

Seeing the First Couple sleeping so soundly made me happy.  
They needed it.

I had relieved the guard that morning.  
The morning was quiet, and that of course gave me time to think.

I remember the ride to New York on Air Force One.  
The President came to me during the flight.

"Enjoying the flight, sir?" I asked, standing up.

"Yes, could I join you?" he asked, seeing the empty seat beside me.  
"Of course, sir," I replied nervously.

"You are going to be with me everywhere I go, right?" he asked, getting a conversation started.

"Yes, Sir," I answered, us both now sitting down.

"Where are you from Lee?" he asked, using my first name.

I was honestly surprised he remembered my name; Jed Bartlet is known to have trouble with names.

"Uh, Alaska sir," trying to recover my stunned response.

"Ah, so you're used to the cold?" he asked, sounding curious.

"Yes sir, have snowball fights whenever I get the chance," I told him, remembering my father and the rest of my family having snowball fights. It's sort of a tradition.

"We should have one at the White House the next time it snows…" he replied, smiling. "We could split the secret service in two and have a little war…"

I smiled, picturing the Leader of the Free World chucking a compacted snowball at one of the secret service agents. Maybe it would be Ron…

"As long as I am on your team, sir," I replied. I was now a little less nervous.

"Of course," giving me his famous smile.

And then the pilot came over the intercom, announcing we would be landing.

It was just a day away from when I would find myself in that limo…  
Alone with Charlie, trying to save the downed President.

- - -

_Please tell me what you think of this :)_


	4. Pt 4

**Red - Part 4**

* * *

**Abbey**

"Jed?" I asked, waking up, looking at the clock on the side table.

12:03 pm

"Yeah?" he replied, looking at me.  
"How are you feeling?"

I had to ask.

"Better," he slowly turned to look at the clock. "Wow, suppose we slept in…" he observed.

"Yeah, they are probably wondering where we are…" I said, getting up to get ready, going into the bathroom.

I heard Jed sit up, and moving in the bed.

"Jed, you better not be getting up…" I said, calling out to him.

"I can't."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What?" I asked, stepping back into the room.

"I'm still attached…" he said, holding one of the wires that went under the cloth that was wrapped around him.

I couldn't help but smile.

"It's not funny…" he said.

"Here." I went over to him and carefully helped him get free.

He stood up.

"Better?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," he said, taking me into his arms. "I'm going to see how everyone is doing today," Jed told me.

I tried giving him a look, but I knew he really wanted to do something other than sleep.

"For a little while…" I finally said, giving in.

- - -

**Jed**

I was honestly surprised when Abbey agreed to allow me to walk around, but I wasn't about to question it.

"Mr. President, how are you?" Leo asked me, as I walked down the hall.

It was about 1:30 pm

"Very good Leo. Anything going on?" I asked.  
"Not really sir, slow week," he said, now walking beside me.  
"How is everybody?" I ask, knowing I haven't seen Toby or Josh since I've been here.  
"Good, good," he said, as we turned the corner.

"Good afternoon sir," CJ said, coming towards us.  
"Hello, CJ."

We continued down to the Oval, everyone standing up and greeting me.

"Where's Josh and Toby?" I ask.  
"In the West Wing," CJ says.

"Ok." I then turn to go find Josh and Toby, deserting my first plan of going to the Oval; they follow me.

I know everyone is watching me, looking at the patch on the side of my neck, and I can't help my cautious movements as I continue to walk.

It didn't take long for me to find both Josh and Toby.

I had to smile, Josh was reclining in his chair, looking at files, Toby standing next to his desk, waiting for him to say something about the report I suppose, when they realized I was standing in the doorway.

"Mr. President…"

Josh quickly stood up, as Toby turned toward me.

"It's good to see you sir…" Josh got out, placing the files on his desk. "Um, how are you?" he asked, trying not to stare at the patch on my neck.

"Ready to get back to work…" I said, "but…well, Abbey isn't letting me."

Was that a smirk from Toby?

"Well, sir, she is a doctor…" Josh tells me, as if I didn't know.  
"I don't think that matters in her decision, she wouldn't let me even if she wasn't."

"So, what are you doing here sir?" Toby asks me, wondering why I had come all the way down here. Leave it to Toby to say what's on his mind.

"Well, since I am not allowed to do any real work, thought I would drop by. I haven't seen you two for over a week."

"Yes, sir. We were going to go down to the residence yesterday, but you were sleeping." Josh said, hoping that he just didn't say something he would regret.

I nodded, understanding.

"Well, it is good to see you both, I am going to go to the Oval now…don't tell Abbey," I joked, leaving them to their work.

- - -

**CJ**

We came in the area outside the Oval. Everyone immediately standing up, very happy to see him, Charlie especially.

"It's good to see you sir," Charlie said.

Jed gave him a nod whose meaning was too deep for me, only meant for Charlie.

"Any calls for me Debbie?" he asked, talking to Debbie as if everything was normal, and he didn't have a dozen or so stitches in his neck, and he could bend over without wincing.

"Well, sir, there has been some mail…" she replied.  
"Mail?" he asked, clearly not expecting that.  
"From schools, there have been several dozen bags of mail delivered already…"  
"And you call that 'some mail'?" Jed asked. "Where are they?"

"In the Oval…"

He then stepped forward, pushing the door to the Oval open.

Debbie sure knows how to make an understatement.

"I, uh, didn't know where to have them put 'em, so I just told them to put 'em in the Oval…" she said, following him.

There were several bags lining the couches, and surrounding his desk.  
Jed was speechless, one of the few times in his life.

We watched him walk over to one of the couches and carefully sit down and open one of the bags.

They were Get Well cards. Thousands and thousands of them. All made by children's hands.

- - -

They let him be after getting a look from Leo.  
They left, Leo closing the door behind them and then going to sit beside Jed.

They began going through the first bag, at first both of them silent.

"So how are you really doing sir?" Leo asked.

"Good, just a little sore…" he whispered, looking at a child's illustration of him standing in front of the White House, and messy writing below that reading: 'Hope you feel better soon Mr. President.'

"I didn't mean physically," Leo told him.  
Jed didn't answer.

"Charlie has been taking it a little hard…" Leo said quietly, after realizing Jed was not going to answer. Jed turned to him.

"I think I would be a little more concerned if he wasn't…but…" Jed began, unsure how to put it as he went onto the next letter.

"I think it will take time for all of us…" Jed said after a moment, unconsciously placing a hand at his side as his left picked up another letter.

Leo noticed.

"I'm fine." Jed said suddenly, seeing Leo was staring, though the way he said it made it sound as if he was trying to convince himself.

There was silence for a time; Jed could feel Leo studying him.

"I have placed a burden on Charlie, one that should never be put on anyone…" Jed began.

Leo stayed silent, figuring it would be harder for Jed to continue if he didn't.

"When I opened my eyes I saw him looking at me with eyes I've never seen before…  
"There was blood covering half of his face…took me a moment to realize it was mine…  
"He had one hand on my neck, the other on the side of my face…  
"I thought I was going to die…and I am sure that is what he thought too…

"I heard him yelling at me.  
"The fear in his voice was raw.  
"But I couldn't respond, it was too hard.  
"The last thing I remember was him shouting at me to hang on, his face over mine…"

Jed fell silent; the wave of intense memories was almost too much.

"Nobody should have to have a memory like that…  
"-Not- Charlie -or- Jacobs…" he muttered.

"Or you sir…" Leo said simply, looking at him.

- - -

**Jacobs**

The President and Leo exited from the Oval around five o'clock. We knew not to enter as they talked in there.

When the President came out he looked tired, Abbey was not going to like this…

"Mr. President, Mrs. Bartlet is waiting for you in the residence…" Charlie told him, he nodded in response.

We then started back to the residence. Leo and I escorting him, along with several other Agents.

I walk behind this man who is still weak and sore, but does not explicitly show it, though I know he is.

This Man who walked in the bombed out streets of our nation's cities.  
This Man who visited the injured and the heroes.

I remember the anger that surrounded him as he took in the burned and collapsed buildings around him.  
I recall the passion in his eyes as he shook hands and gave hugs.

This Man who is the Leader of the Free World…

Was this the man who was laying across that limo bench just a week ago?  
The most Powerful Man on Earth, bleeding and shaking?

The memories of that day I cannot elude. They shall forever be in the back of my mind.  
.  
.  
I will never forget how I felt as I lifted that vest and found bruises already forming on this Man's chest.  
The pain I caused him as I touched his side, finding a rib was broken.  
The look on Charlie's face when he turned to look at me as Jed Bartlet's hand slid down his arm.  
Tilting his red body up as I slide the backboard under him.  
Telling Charlie to get on before I lifted the board and helped them place Bartlet's now limp body on the gurney.  
.  
.  
We are now outside his room. I know he will eat and then go to bed; Abbey already having ordered food up for them.

"Good night sir," I said, opening the door for him. Abbey already in the room.

"Good night Lee, Leo" he replied to us both, smiling and giving us a short nod before stepping in, and allowing me to close the door.

- - -

Charlie found himself walking in a littered and a smoke filled street. Jed was beside him, walking with him.

'No, not here…not again…' Charlie thought, as they walked back to the limo.

He couldn't stop it.  
It was in slow motion.  
Seeing what was going to happen, but unable to stop it.  
And then it happened.

Jed was about to wave.  
And then Charlie heard the shout from the crowd:

"FREE AGUSTIN ALFONSO!- - -"

And then…

POP-OP-OP-OP-OP-OP-OP

He felt something warm and wet hit the side of his face as he saw the from the corner of his eye…

Red.

WHAM-SLAM  
TING-TING-TING - - TFF-TFF-TFF  
BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG  
SCHREEEEEE

And then he opened his eyes to find Jed looking at him, both now in the limo.

Red all over.

Time seemed to disappear as he tried to stop the bleeding, Jed's eyes glazing over.

'Sir…SIR! Stay with ME!'  
.  
.  
.  
"Charlie?"

Charlie woke with a start, shaking and sweating.

"Charlie?" Deena called again.  
"Deena?" Charlie asked, uncertain.

"What's wrong?"

Deena, his sister, had come home from college for the weekend, knowing Charlie needed her, especially after what had happened.

"Nightmare?" she asked, seeing he wasn't answering.

He nodded.

She moved to the bed and sat beside him.  
"Amarillo?" she asked.

He nodded.

She pulled him to her, his head rest on her shoulder, his body still shaking.  
The stars glowed brightly in the black sky outside.  
The room dimly illuminated by the street lights from outside and of the light from the hall.

"i hate red…" Charlie whispered, Deena just barely able to hear him.

"Why?" she asked, at first not understanding, and then understanding all too well.

He didn't reply at first.

"I thought he was going to…" he muttered, her heart wretched at his pained words.

"It's alright now…" she whispered, rubbing his back, as he caved in and quietly cried on her shoulder in the dim darkness.

- - -

Plz rememer to review :)


	5. Pt 5

**Red - Part 5**

* * *

**Abbey**

I woke up to a horrible sound.

The machines were beeping irregularly, and Jed was moaning…

"Jed!?" I asked, sitting up, finding that he had rolled over to his right (ok, real smart Jed), was cradling his side (the best that he could), while at the same time his left hand was cupped at the left side of his neck over the bandage.

"Jed! Wake up!" I ordered, placing my hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

He took a sharp intake of breath and shot up.  
Nearly gave me a heart attack.

"Jed, you ok?"

I was scared.

At first he looked around the room as if he didn't know where he was, his heart still racing and his right arm now braced against his side, his breathing rugged.

"Abbey…" he breathed, his eyes now focusing and coming to rest on me.  
"Jed, what happened?" I asked.

He then wrapped his arms around himself, shutting his eyes; he was hurting.

I then hear a hard knock at the door and, "Mr. President, Mrs. Bartlet?"

"Come in," I tell them, knowing I would probably need help.  
Ron, Jacobs, and two other agents came in.

"Ron, would you get some Tylenol?" I asked, moving closer to Jed.

Jacobs then moved in, standing next to Jed.

"Should we get new wrappings, these look loose…" he noted. I knew he wanted to do something helpful.

"Probably a good idea…" I said placing my hand on Jed's back, rubbing, trying to get him to calm down.

The whole time he was concentrating on getting his breathing under control, his heaving was definitely doing a number on his chest.

"Damn…damn limo…" he mutters. The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine.

I look to Jacobs who looks as white as Jed, though not shaking.

This wasn't fair…

It takes a moment for Jed to calm down, and as he does, I look at the clock.

6:30 am.

'Well at least he slept most of the night,' I say to myself as he looks up to me.

It was almost like looking at a child who had woken up from a nightmare about a monster from under the bed.

And yet it wasn't.

"Jed, are you ok?" I asked him.  
"Yeah, I am now," he whispered.

"Jed, we are going to need to put some new wrappings on you…" I told him, deciding, for right now, his physical issues needed to be addressed first.

He nodded.

Jacobs and another Agent helped me.

"Jed, you are staying in bed today…" I say, as I try not to cringe at the black and blue bruises wrapping around his side, and the three deep ones on his chest.

He didn't say anything.

"Do you want me to call the doctor on call?" Jacobs asked me.  
"Yeah," I said.  
"I don't… need a doctor," Jed grumbled in between breaths.  
"Jed, yes you do." I stated.

- - -

**Jed**

"It was just a dream. A damn bloody dream."

Crap, did I just say that? I of course did not mean it like that.

Man my ribs hurt…  
And I am not getting enough air…

I look up and suddenly realize the doctor on call is examining me. I had been focusing so much on breathing I hadn't realized he had come in, though, come to think of it, when did the room get so crowded?

"Mr. President, I am Dr. Fetes, the doctor on call. I am going to give you oxygen, so just try and breathe normally…" he told me, putting something on my face.

I tried to do as he said, but when you're in that situation, the first thing you want to know is how putting something over your nose and mouth is going to help you breathe.

- - -

**Abbey**

It took a while for Jed to calm down, and when he finally did, he went to sleep pretty quickly.

"Mrs. Bartlet, can you tell me what happened?" Dr. Fetes asked me as we stepped out, Jacobs staying in the room with Jed.

"I woke up to find him on his side, I think he was having a bad dream," I told him.  
"Mrs. Bartlet, what your husband has been through…"

I knew where he was going with this.

"I'll talk to him…"  
"Mrs. Bartlet, just remember, physical health is not the only thing that must heal."

I nodded, in total agreement.

- - -

**Deena**

I was watching the TV when it had happened.  
I was in the cafeteria; there are TV's that we can watch there.  
We were watching the live coverage.  
I could see my brother standing next to the president.

Everything happened so fast.  
At first everything was going good, and then the next thing I see is my brother slamming into the President, agents going everywhere, and I swear there was a mist of red…

I now know what that had been.

The agents opened fire. Standing in a solid row in front of the side of the limo. Bullets going both ways. Some bullets hitting the limo before it sped off, another hitting one of the agents.

Everyone around me was speechless.  
Had we just seen what we thought we had seen?  
Why was this happening?  
First all of those attacks, car bombs and pipe bombs…and now this.

I was so scared and worried about my brother.  
Was he ok?  
What was he going through?  
What about the President?  
What was going to happen next?

I finally got a call later that day.

"Deena?" I heard a voice ask.  
"Hello? Charlie?" I asked, hopeful.  
"Yes, it's me."  
"Oh, thank G-d. Are you alright? What's happening?"

"Yes, I'm fine…" he said, saying it in a way that I thought was odd, as if he regretted it.  
"Is everyone alright?" my voice shaking.

I already knew the President had been shot; it was all over the news. The shooting had been on live television, and a few networks had captured different angles, but they hadn't replayed them, thank G-d…

My friend called me, hysterical, telling me what she had seen on one of the news channels. She had seen the President clearly get hit, and she said it wasn't good. She was beyond tears, and I had to sit down.

'It was horrible Deena…" she choked, 'There was blood…G-d please don't be another Kennedy…" she had whispered.

I waited for Charlie's reply, he still hadn't answered.

"No," he finally stated.

"Oh, Gawd Charlie, it's the President…isn't it?"

He took a slow deep breath, I don't know if he was crying or not, but he was close.

"He has lost a lot of blood…" he muttered. "Keep this to yourself, ok?" he added.

I gave my word as I hugged my pillow alone in my room, the phone pressed to my ear.

"They are saying he might not wake up…he has a cracked rib, his whole torso is pretty bad, but he was wearing a vest…"

"Thank goodness…" I whispered before he continued.

"Deena…"  
"Yeah? What is it Charlie?"

There was a long pause before I heard his voice again.

"I was the last person he saw…"  
"Charlie…he will wake up, you must believe that…"

That was several days ago, almost a week, and now it is about 7:00am.  
Charlie is taking a shower.

Last night was one of the longest nights that have been in a long while.  
I have never seen my brother that upset.  
Even after mom died he had never been like that.

We talked for nearly half of the night, well, I talked mostly, but he did some.

I hope it did him some good; it seemed to.  
He calmed down after a little bit.  
.  
.  
"Charlie, tell me what happened, maybe if you tell me, you will feel better…"  
"I don't want to…" he whispered, his voice rough.

"Charlie…" I pleaded, hating to see him like this.

We were sitting on his bed; the room still dark.  
I watched him close his eyes for a moment, and at first I was afraid he had closed himself up, but then he spoke. He didn't talk loudly, but it was louder than a whisper.

"I heard the man shout from the crowd, and then the gunfire…  
"I turned slightly as I felt something hit my face."

He stopped, unable to look at me.

"Charlie, you saved the President's life…you even acted faster than the agents…"  
"He still almost died…"  
"Charlie, you did everything you could, and because of that Jed Bartlet is still in the White House."

He simply sat there, his bare feet touching the floor.

"Charlie, have you talked to anyone about this?" I asked.  
He shook his head.

"Ok, so what happened in the limo?"

He turned slightly away from me and looks out the window. I didn't say a thing.

"I landed on him, then Jacobs landed on me…  
"I then opened my eyes to find half of his face…" he took a deep breath, "…all red…  
"I then see the side of his neck, where the gash is. I put my hand there to try and stop the bleeding.  
"I slid off of him so that Jacobs could check the three holes that could be seen…  
"He tried to talk, it came out as muffled garble mostly, but I understood…"

I didn't know what to do as he looked to the floor, and then he did something I was not expecting.

He smiled, and attempted a laugh.

"Do you know what the first thing he asked me?" Charlie asked me, looking up at me with a small smile.

"He asked if -I- was ok…me, not himself…"

I smiled back.

"He is a Great man…and Charlie, he wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for you."

He nodded, though just barely.  
.  
.  
- - -

Thanks to those who review :)


	6. Pt 6

Title: Red - Part 6

* * *

_Jacobs _

Jed Bartlet is now sleeping soundly, oxygen still being given to him.  
It's 9:37 am.  
Mrs. Bartlet is out.

I stand silently by the door.

It was a little while before he woke.  
He opens his eyes and looks at me.

"Good morning, sir," I say.  
"Hello Lee…" he replies, slowly sitting up, feeling the oxygen mask.

He takes it off.

"Do you need anything sir?" I ask, watching him flip the switch for the oxygen off.  
"You know, could you have someone bring up some of that mail?" he asks.  
"Certainly sir," I reply, then talk into my radio.  
"They are bringing some up sir," I answer.

He is quiet, and I can't help but wonder what he is thinking.  
He looks at me, as if wondering the same thing about me.

I decide to say something.

"You know, I have had a few of them too…" I whisper, and at first I am unsure if he heard me.

"That one was my worst…" he finally tells me.

We don't utter a word of what exactly we are talking about; we don't need to.

"It was like I was back there again," I tell him.  
I don't know why I am telling him this, but I am.  
"Me too…"

There is then a knock at the door and I open it. An agent carries the mail in and places it next to the President's bed, giving him a nod; the President gives a smile in return.

We are then once again alone in the room.  
Jed reaches over and picks one of the letters.

He looks up at me after placing his glasses on his face.

"Are you going to stand there? Or would you like to open some of these letters with me? Come on; take up a chair…" he says, motioning to one of the chairs.

I do as he says and move one of the chairs beside the bed, lifting the bag and placing it on his legs, him motioning me to do so.

"Not all of these letters are for me you know," he says, after finding one and holding it up, a smile on his face.

I take it, and turn the paper over to see it.

It was an 8 by 11 sheet of paper, decorated and colored.

I am not an emotional man, but I would be lying if I said it did not touch me.

In slightly tilted letters, on the bottom it read:

_Hope you feel better Mr. President.  
When I grow up, I want to be an agent._

It was a very detailed picture. A long black limo, the door open, an agent diving in. Along the limo was a row of pretty well drawn people dressed in black, guns in their hands, aimed out, facing the threat.

It was something the child must have seen from that day. That fact in itself pained me, but instead of looking at this scene only as an assassination attempt, this child looked at it from a perspective of rescue and protection.

I held the paper for a moment, looking at all of the details this kid had placed onto this sheet of paper. From the trash on the ground, to the clouds in the sky, I swear this kid had to have spent hours on this.

After looking at it for a time I began to hand it back to the President.

"No, you keep it Lee."

I placed it in my lap, the paper at my finger tips.

"Thanks, sir…"  
"Jed."  
"What?"  
"Call me Jed, I think you've earned it."

- - -

_CJ_

"The President is recovering nicely inside of the White House, he even took a little stroll within the White House and the West Wing, but as I have said, he is still recovering..." I tell the press. "Thank you all, and good evening."

I ignore the thousands of questions; they are pretty much all the same anyways.

I need to talk to Jed sometime; I think an interview should be made. I am tired of these questions…

I wonder where he is right now…  
I just saw Abbey.  
Hmm.

I turn the corner and find Charlie there.

"Hello Charlie, how are you?" I ask.  
"Good…" he says, "Anything you want me to do?"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I wanted to ask you, do you think the President would be ready for an interview?"

He thought for a time.

"I don't know, I guess I'd have to ask him."  
"Would you mind doing that for me? I need to do some things."  
"Sure."

He then goes off, his mood slightly better than yesterday.

- - -

_Jacobs_

"Sir," I say. He gives me a look, wanting me to speak to him while using his name.

I don't.

We have been reading hundreds of letters, and are on the fourth bag now. Obviously we have been doing this for hours, but it doesn't seem like it.

"Have you seen them?" I ask, for some reason not clarifying.

"What?"

"The tapes…of that day." I partly regret bringing it up.

He began to shake his head but stopped, probably because it hurt, then replied, "No."

"Have you?" he asked, coming upon a red envelope.

He holds the red envelope, the only red one that has come up through all previous bags it seemed.

"No…" I answer as he opened it and took out the card.

I watched in silence as his eyes moved down the page, no doubt reading a message.

- - -

_Jed_

What I hold in my hand. A simple letter made by an eighth grader, whose message is anything but simple.

The color had honestly caught me off guard. I opened it, to find a letter, addressed to me, reading:  
.  
.  
_Dear Mr. President,_

_I saw you get shot. I was at home, on the couch.  
After it happened I was scared, then I was angry.  
Why would anyone want to hurt you?  
Why were they doing this?  
When I saw you being pushed in the limo, I honestly thought you were dead._

_Later I told my mom something.  
I told her I now hated the color red, saying that it never showed up in anything good._

_Then she told me something I think you might want to know._

_'Red is more than a color  
'Red is Anger  
'Red is Passion  
'Red is Love_

_'Yes, blood is Red  
'But so is something else_

_'Healed wounds.'_

_When you spoke to us when you were still in the hospital, you were Red to me._

_I hope you feel better soon Mr. President._

_Jennifer Bradley  
8th grade  
Freedman Middle School_  
.  
.  
I felt myself melt after reading this. My eyes now burn with tears, and now I find that Jacobs is talking.

"Sir?" Jacobs asks.  
"Read this…" I say, giving him the red letter.

He does so; his reaction pretty much matches mine.

"Wow…" he breathes.

"Mr. President?" a knock and a voice come from beyond the door.  
"Charlie, that you?" I ask. "Come in."

"Good afternoon sir," he says, glancing at Jacobs, and then at the letters somewhat spread out everywhere.

"How are you doing Charlie?"

- - -

_Charlie_

He never ceases to amaze me; it is never about himself…

"Good, how are you?" I ask, noticing the oxygen mask on the side table.

I watch as Jacobs hands Jed a red paper.

"Better, come over here, you need something?" he asks.

I come closer.

"CJ wanted to know if you would feel comfortable with an interview…"

I can tell that the president wonders why she didn't ask herself.

I continue to watch this great man pause and think.

"Yeah. Yeah, an interview is a good idea." He glances back down at his hands holding that paper, the color all too evident.

My Gosh, what is wrong with me? It is just a color.

"Something wrong Charlie?" Jed asks me.

I stand there for a moment trying to figure out how I should answer that question.

"Come and sit over here," Jed nearly ordered, pointing at the end of the bed, near his feet.  
"Are you sleeping ok? You look really tired," Jed notes.  
"Well, I suppose that answer would be a no, sir," I admit.  
"Me neither…"

Did he just say that?  
The most powerful Man in the world, and not only that, Jed Bartlet?

"Had a bad one last night," Jed says, motioning to the thing on the side table and then to the monitors. "The machine didn't like it, and neither did I."

"Nightmare?" I ask, making sure before I jumped to conclusions.

He nods.

"You? Or can you just not sleep?" he asks, looking up from the red paper in his hands.  
"Yeah, nightmares," I answer, then mutter, "…red…"

His eyes gaze up at me intensely.

"I am going to ask you a favor…I don't want the press to get wind of it. I want you to get me the number to this person. I want it to be totally secret," he says as he hands me the red page.

"Of course sir, who is it?" I ask, grasping the page, his fingers still gripping it from the other end.

"Read it, I think you will understand."  
.  
.  
.  
I don't hate Red anymore…

- - -

Please remember to review :)


	7. Pt 7

**Red - Part 7**

NOTE: ' in front of text shows what is happening on the other side of the phone.

* * *

**Charlie**

I was on a mission, walking through the West Wing; I was set on one thing.  
Getting that number.

It wasn't hard.

She is from Georgia, a good student according from her record, and lives with her mother, father, and three younger brothers and sister.

I quickly got her home phone number and wrote it down on a sticky note.

- - -

**CJ**

Charlie is in a much better mood…  
Suppose I was right in sending him to Jed.

I watch him intently as he grabs the phone and gets some number.

"Charlie, so did you talk to the President?"

He nods, writing a number on a sticky note.

"What did he say?"  
"That it is a good idea." He stands up to go.  
"Where are you going?" I ask him.  
"To the residence."

He then goes before I can ask him why.

- - -

**Abbey**

When I walk up to the door to the residence I can hear commotion from inside. I open the door to find Jacobs and Jed laughing and talking.

Jed in bed, Jacobs in a chair beside him, colored paper literally all over the place.

Jed's whole body is nearly covered completely in paper; the bed is patched with poor attempts at making piles and on Jed's face is a true genuine smile I haven't seen in a while.

"Hello, baby," he says, seeing me staring at his mess.

"I leave you for just a few hours, and the room turns into this," I tell him, smiling, walking over and carefully sitting at the foot of the bed.

There is then a knock at the door.

"Come in…" Jed calls.

I turn to find Leo and Charlie beyond the doorway.

"Leo, good to see you. Charlie, you have it?" he asks.  
"Have what?" I ask.

He then gives me that smile that has mischief all over it, but then his face shifts to serious, I now notice a red card in his hands.

He then hands it to me without a word.

My eyes grow wide at the deepness of the message, looking up to see his eyes staring at me.

"Here is the number sir," Charlie whispers, handing him a piece of paper.

We all then sit down as Jed takes the phone and begins dialing.

- - -

Jennifer sat in front of the TV, 'doing her homework' while watching nickelodeon, when the phone rang in the other room.

' "Jed, what if they aren't at home?" Abbey asks.  
' "I will call later, I can do that can't I? Or should I leave them a message and leave them my number?"

' Abbey rolls her eyes.

Jennifer's mom entered the room, walking toward the phone. She picks it up.

"Hello?" she says.  
' "Hello, is Jennifer Bradley there?" Jed asks.  
"Yes, may I ask who this is?" The voice is not exactly familiar to her, and yet so familiar.

' Jed cannot help but smile as he answers, "Josiah Bartlet."

There is a long silence, Jed could tell that she is covering the mouth piece as he then hears a muffled, "Jonathon!…"

Jennifer turns around to see her parents standing, her mom holding the phone, covering the receiver, talking intensely with her father.

"What do you mean 'it's him'?" Jonathon asks his wife, her eyes wide.

"The President!" she breathes.  
"Of the United States?" he asks dumbly; well, more like in shock.

She nods.

' "Hello? Mrs. Bradley?" Jed asks.  
"Yes, Mr. President?" her voice shaking ever so slightly.  
' "Uh, is this a bad time?" he asks.  
"No, no sir…um, I'll get Jennifer…"

Jennifer hears her name and so she quickly gets up and goes to them.

Jennifer's Mom then silently hands her the phone.  
Jennifer takes it, a little confused at her parent's expressions.

"Hello?" she asks.  
' "Jennifer?" Jed asks.  
"Yes, who is this?"  
' "President Bartlet."  
"Really?"  
' "Yeah. Why, don't believe me?"

Jennifer's parents watch their daughter continue to speak to the most Powerful Man in the World, wondering what he is saying.

"Oh, I believe you…"

' "Well, I got your letter, so decided I would call you and thank you. I will never look at Red the same way again."

"Your welcome sir, but I was just repeating what my mom told me."

' "Then I suppose I will thank your mother as well. Your parents are raising a great young woman."

Jennifer can't help but blush.

' "So, Jennifer, how is school?" Jed asks.  
"Doing good, a lot of the kids are wondering about you though."  
' "They saw it didn't they?"  
"Yes sir."  
' "Have you told them what you told me?"  
"Yeah."  
' "Well, you know what, tell them you know I am doing much better."  
"Are you still resting?" she asks him.

' "Yes, though they let me walk around yesterday. I went to the Oval; was in there several hours, don't think they liked that though, that's why I'm still in bed now."

"They're punishing you? I thought you could do anything you wanted."

Jennifer smiles as she hears Jed laugh, though she notes he did so carefully.

' "Well, 'they' aren't exactly, Abbey is. She thought I was too tired yesterday when I came back after my little 'detour'. I was only supposed to be up and around for a couple hours, not half the day." Abbey raises her eyebrows at him.

"Oh, I see. I think I agree with your wife…"  
' "Taking sides?" Jed playfully accuses.  
"Uh, I suppose…" Jennifer answers, smiling.  
' "So tell me, what is a smart young lady like yourself going to do when you get older?"

"I am going to go to college, I would like to go into Criminal Justice, or child services or something along the lines of helping kids."

' "Have you thought about a college?"  
"Like Yale?"  
' "Yeah."  
"Not really…"  
' "Could I propose Notre Dame?"

"Aren't you a little biased?" she asks, her parent's looking surprised, wondering what on earth they are talking about.

' "I guess I am…" Jed agrees.

"So are you just resting in bed? Isn't that boring?"

' "Not when you have letters from kids across the country to read. Let's just say I won't be bored any time soon."

"How many did you get?"

' "Oh, uh…" he then starts talking to someone on his end. "Charlie, how many letters have been sent?"

' "I don't know, but there are at least fifteen full bags still in the Oval…" Charlie answers.

He then comes back to Jennifer. "A lot, over fifteen mail bags…"

"Who was that?" Jennifer asks, catching a clip of the little conversation.  
' "Oh, that was Charlie…"  
"He saved your life, right?"

' "Yes. Yes he did."

She is quiet for a little bit.

"He was very brave."  
' "You have no idea, I don't even think I have grasped it completely."  
"I am glad you are ok Mr. President, I think you gave the country a heart attack."  
' "Yeah, I think I gave my wife one too."  
"So is it true that you will be interviewed?" she asks.

' "Uh, yeah, though I am surprised that news is already out…" Jed says, wondering how that could have leaked.

"It's just a rumor, people are saying that you should…"  
' "Do you think I should?"  
"You're asking me?"  
' "Why not? You are pretty smart."  
"Yes, I think you should."  
' "I agree."

"Do you want to talk to my parents now?" she asks.  
' "Sure, and Jennifer…"  
"Yes?"  
' "Thank you again for your letter."  
"Your welcome sir…and thank you for being Red."

Jennifer then hands the phone to her Father.  
Jed is silent on the other end, the last word still settling.

"Mr. President?" Jonathon asks.

Jed clears his throat before answering.  
' "Yes? Mr. Bradley?"

"Yes sir."  
' "You and your wife have raised a wonderful daughter."  
"Thank you sir."  
' "Keep doing what you are doing."  
"I will. Thank you sir."  
' "No, thank you."  
"Have a good day sir."  
' "You too. Good bye."

- - -


	8. Pt 8

**Red - Part 8  
**

* * *

**CJ**

"CJ, the President wants to talk to you about the interview," Charlie tells me, coming back from the residence.

"Alright." I then leave to the residence.  
"Hello Leo," I say, as I pass him.  
"Hello CJ, interview thing?"  
"Yeah."

He gives me a smile that borders sympathy, and I instantly know...

_Abbey._

I enter the residence and Jacobs opens the door to the President's bedroom for me.

"Good evening, sir," I say as I approach the bed.

"Hey CJ," he greets me, propped up on pillows. The only other person in the room is Abbey, standing beside the bed that was littered with paper and letters.

He motions me to take a sit in the chair beside the bed.

"You wanted to talk to me about the interview?" I ask.  
"Yeah."  
"Ok, well I think it would be best to be interviewed by only one person."  
"Yes."

"Oh, and I was also asked by one of the networks if they could interview some of the other people there that day, and sort of do a documentary on the whole month..."

"Already?"

"Not right away, they are just wanting permission so they can start preparing."  
"I think it would actually be a good idea."  
"When do you want to do the interview?" I ask; he glances over at Abbey.

"Not tomorrow." Abbey states.  
"I was not going to say that," he says.

"No. But you were thinking it," she tells him.  
He tries to look innocent, but fails.

"When, do you think?" he asks me.

'Love how you put the pressure on me...' I think before I answer.

"Uh, I think perhaps sometime later this week..."  
"I think that's a good idea," Jed says, Abbey shakes her head.

"Abbey, it isn't like I am going to be doing much. I'll probably be just sitting in a chair for a little bit.

"This is a time for Healing. This nation needs to see that I am really ok, and that she is also. Let us wipe away the blood Red memory and Red anger, and replace them with a different Red. Passion and Love.

"I -need- to do this."

That last statement says enough.  
I watch as Abbey shifts from being protective to being understanding.

"Alright, in two days at the earliest," she says.

"Alright, two days it shall be, and that would allow for these stitches to be taken out," he says, placing his hand carefully over the gauze that still covered the black thread.

"You are still going to need something, it still has healing to do," Abbey informs him.  
"Butterfly band-aids would be fine with me," he mutters.

"Now would the interview just be between you, or you and Mrs. Bartlet?" I ask, watching as Jed gently rubs his neck.

"What do you think?" Jed asks me.  
"Well, that is between you two..." I answer.

"Jed, it doesn't matter much to me. I understand that if I do join you, some will think you can't do it on your own, while others, if I don't, will think I am uncaring."

"I think you should be with me during the interview," Jed says, instantly settling that.

"Ok, so that still leaves who you want to be interviewed by," I say, already thinking about when exactly the interview will take place later this week.

"Do you have anyone in mind?" he asks.

I do, a young man from NBC, with the name of John Wales.

"John Wales, I think he would be the one."

"Wasn't he one of the news casters that had covered a lot of the things that happened?" Jed asks.

"Yes, that's why I think he would be good. Gives the American People two familiar faces."

He nods a little, thinking.

"Yeah, I think that is good."  
"Ok, I'll arrange everything personally. Is that all you need sir?"  
"Yeah, and let me know the date and time of the interview when you've got it."  
"Of course."

- - -

**Abbey**

CJ is gone, and it is only me and Jed.

I look at all of the letters that are sprawled all over the bed. Jed has his glasses on as he reads one after another, after another.

"Are you going to reply to all of these?" I ask suddenly, amazed at all of the letters.

Oh, no. Should not have suggested it...

"You know, I think I will."  
"Oh, Dear G-d."

Did I say that out loud?  
Yes.  
Jed looks up from reading one of the letters.

"I don't think I will start any of the letters that way, maybe, 'Dear Johnny,' or 'Dear Julie,' but not 'Dear G-d,'" he says, lifting another letter up.

"Very funny...but Jed, you can't be serious..."

He looks over at the side table that has a pen, but thank G-d, no paper.  
His shoulders sag.

"Alright, I know what we could do, we can get Charlie to type a letter, and then we can send them out."

"Still isn't the same you know..." he mutters.  
"Jed, it would take at least two life times to reply to all of those letters individually."

"I suppose..." he picks up another one. "I wish I could make two minute phone calls to them all, but that would definitely take two life times..."

I sit on the bed, sliding the letters aside.  
I then begin gathering them up, putting them into piles.

"Yeah, tell Charlie to write a letter, it appears to me he is hunting for something to do, I think he would enjoy it," he finally says, putting another letter down.

I smile; finally, he's rational for once!

"Then he can bring them to me for me to sign." He then states.

Sigh

Spoke too soon.

- - -

**John Wales**

I went into my office and plopped myself down in my office chair.  
Today had been an 'okay' day, it was better than last week, that was for sure...

Oh, what a mess that had been…

Bombings, pipe bombs, an assassination of an ambassador, and an assassination attempt of the President…

I had gotten the report that a bomb had gone off in Dallas, and then later, the two others in Denver and San Francisco… I had to tell the world that the United States had just been attacked by terrorists.

And then the pipe bombs that went off everywhere later.  
That day was utter chaos…not knowing when the next would go off, or if it was truly over.

I think the worst part of that whole month was what had happened about a week ago.  
I had seen it; I had watched it happen.  
The view that I had gotten of the assassination attempt was horrible. I saw all of it.  
It's a miracle that he's alive.  
When I had to look in that camera and say that the President was in Critical Condition…  
Just thinking about it sends chills down my back.  
.  
.  
"Moments ago there were shots fired at the President. He is in route to the Hospital in Amarillo Texas. The extent of his injuries appear to be severe, we are, as of yet, waiting for more information…"  
.  
.  
I had my elbows on the desk, my hands on my forehead, when the phone rang.  
I looked at it, trying to decide if I should even pick it up.  
It rings again, and I decide I oughta pick it up.

"John Wales, who is this?" I ask.  
"Mr. Wales, this is CJ Cregg."

Did I hear that correctly?

"Uh, hello. Something I could do for you?" I ask, wondering what on earth she was calling me for.

"The President is wanting to do an interview, and I suggested you to be the one to do it."

What!? Wow.

"Uh, Sure, it would be my pleasure," I manage.  
"Later this week?" she asks.  
"Whatever is best for the President."

"Alright, we will pick you up at 1, the day after tomorrow then. The interview will be in the White house. We have already informed your supervisors. Any questions?"

"Uh, why me?"

Oh, man. Did I just ask that? Why can't I just keep my mouth shut and simply take what has been given without questioning it?

"I saw how you handled the past month, and figured you were the best choice. You have gained the American People's trust, and so have also gained the President's."

Struck Dumb. I literally cannot talk.

"Mr. Wales?" she asks, finding that I am not answering.

I stay silent for a little while longer before I speak again.

"Uh, just John. I'll be ready, and tell the President I look forward to meeting him."

Ah, I have found language!

"Thank you," she says.  
"No, thank you," I reply.  
"I'll see you then."  
"Good bye."

- - -


	9. Pt 9

**Red - Part 9  
**

* * *

'I love butterfly band-aids! I think they are one of the greatest things ever invented,' Jed thought as Dr. Fetes finished removing the last stitch. 

"You know who invented the band-aid?" Jed asked Dr. Fetes, who was now carefully applying a nice row of the thin butterfly ones to keep the gash on Jed's neck closed.

"Oh, here we go..." Abbey muttered; Jed ignored her.

"Earle Dickson. 1921. Inspired by his wife, Josephine Dickson, I might add." He glanced over at Abbey and smiled.

"He noticed how she was always cutting herself in the kitchen and how gauze and adhesive tape wasn't working properly, so he got to thinking. And Walla!" Jed continued, moving his hands for dramatic effect, "the band-aid was born."

Dr. Fetes continued to listen, quickly understanding why people said not to get him started on trivia if you can help it.

"And you know what? He worked for a man named James Johnson."

"Johnson? As in Johnson & Johnson?" Dr. Fetes asked, now curious, placing the last band-aid on and moving to place a larger bandage to cover the whole wound.

"The one and the same. He saw the little invention, saw its potential, and the rest is now history."

"That is a long history for such a little thing," Dr. Fetes noted.

"And you know what is also interesting?" He didn't pause for them to ask what but continued, "For the first year they sold $3,000 worth of band-aids, and then the year of Dickson's death in 1961, they were selling over $30,000,000 worth of Band-aids _each year_. Now that's a nice accomplishment. In forty years to increase the amount you sell by 10,000 times. Wow."

Dr. Fetes nodded in agreement.

"Alright, now you will need to be a little more careful, band-aids are not as strong as stitches," he told him.  
"No, but they are more comfortable..." Jed inserted.

"They will need to be changed at least once a day," Dr. Fetes continued.  
"I'll make sure of that," Abbey informed them.

Jed sighed before looking up to Dr. Fetes.

"Thank you," Jed said, genuinely thankful for being free from the stitches.  
"Your welcome sir. Enjoy your interview."

He then left the room.

Jed stood up and continued to get ready. Abbey helped him get his shirt and vest on, Jed having just gotten freshly wrapped before having the stitches removed.

"Better?" Abbey asked, as she finished helping him tuck in his shirt around his waist.

He nodded slightly, suddenly coming to the realization that not all of the bruises had healed as much as he had initially thought.

There were still three bruises on his chest of where the bullets had hit his vest, but they were fainter, and the edges of the bruises were brown and fading, now only the centers being that purple and odd black color.

His side of where he had cracked his rib was still quite colorful, but like the bruises on his chest, the outer rims where fading, the bruises only dark running between the ribs, branching slightly around to his back and front.

"What?" Jed asked, seeing his wife staring at him.  
She smiled, "You look so handsome."  
"I know." Jed stated, smiling in return.

Jed went to her, wrapping his arms around her, her hands following the wrappings that ran around him as he did so. She looked into his face, and met his eyes. The same eyes that had been so empty that day, and unfocused, were full and deep.

She raised her hand and gently ran her hand against the bandage on his neck.

"Weird huh?" Jed whispered.  
"What?" she asked.

"Doesn't feel like it truly happened, it's like a dream. Sometimes I think, 'did that really happen?' but then I feel the soreness in my chest, and the bandage on my neck, and I think, 'How am I still here?'"

Abbey looked at him, running her hand along his right side, the healing rib just under her touch.

She moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

There was then a knock at the door.

"Sir. Ma'am."

They slowly parted.

"Come in," Jed called.  
Jacobs opened the door.  
"They are ready."

- - -

During the passed two days, Jed had been 'resting', though what Abbey identified it as was 'signing'.

Charlie had knocked and entered, a large stack of letters in his arms.

"Charlie, what on Earth...no..." Abbey said, walking out of the bathroom, turning to see Jed's face smiling broadly at the things in Charlie's possession, a pen in his hand.

"Jed, no."  
"Aww, but Abbey..."  
"Don't 'aww, but Abbey' me..."

"Abbey...you won't let me do anything else...how is writing my name hurting anything?" he asked her, Charlie not moving, unsure of what Abbey would do if he moved closer.

His tone must have gotten to her because she gave in.

"Fine, but you better not complain to me when your neck hurts from looking down at all of those papers..."

Jed looked so happy; he looked like a kid at Christmas.

"Charlie, bring 'em here, my pen and I here are waiting for them!" Jed announced, as Charlie obliged and went forward, carefully placing them on the side table.

So that was all he did those two days, Abbey surprised to find that his hand never gave out, though a few times she saw him half way shake them out.  
.  
.  
"Mrs. Bartlet, I'm kind of surprised he has signed so many," Charlie told her while outside the room.

Abbey nodded and then watched Charlie go back to the West Wing with a stack full of letters to send off.

'The President shall be interviewed later today at 3:00 pm by John Wales, one of the News casters during the last month. It shall be live, and in the Green Room of the White House,' a news caster announced from one of the TV's in the West Wing, as Charlie entered, the mail ready.

- - -

**John Wales**

The President and his wife entered the Green Room, where they found CJ and I, waiting for them.

The camera crew was all set, so was a couch for the First Couple to sit on, and a comfy chair for me to be.

There were three cameras. One that would capture the three of us; another one to focus on me, and the other to focus on them.

"Mr. President," I said, extending my hand for a shake.

I thought I had prepared myself for seeing the President.  
But I had evidently failed as this man came into my presence.  
This is truly a great man.  
I had thought I had felt his power from watching him on television.  
Oh how wrong that thought had been.  
Simply standing in the same room with him was amazing.

Not even the bandage on his neck nor the caution in his every movement could sway the awesome aura that surrounded him.

He took my hand and gave me a legendary handshake.

"Mr. Wales, I take it?" he said.  
"Yes, sir, though you can call me John."  
"Good to meet you John."

I then shook Mrs. Bartlet's hand, them both standing side by side, her left arm around him.

"Shall we start?" I asked.  
"Yes."

Jed and Abbey moved to the couch and sat down.

They looked so natural and relaxed.The President was all the way back against the couch, I am sure to help support him. Just the way he moved I could tell he was still healing. Mrs. Bartlet was slightly resting against the left side of him, her right hand on his knee, his arm around her. Though it was just speculation, I felt that she was somewhat purposely sitting in the way of the front camera catching a full view of the bandage on his neck, but his face could still be clearly seen.

"Ready to begin?" I asked, seeing that both the President and his wife were comfortable.  
"Yeah, we're ready," the President answered.

The cameras were then turned on, and we were live.

"Mr. President, I am sure I am not alone when I say this, but it is very good to see you looking this well after everything that has happened."

He smiled.

"I suppose I should first ask the obvious…How are you feeling sir?" I asked.

"Much better, I feel ready for some serious work, though Abbey...well, she has somewhat banned me from that for now." He looked at her, a glowing smile on his face.

"It is quite understandable, sir."

I looked at these two sitting before me, and I felt so blessed at being there.

"So what have you been doing lately?" I glanced over at Mrs. Bartlet who I swear just rolled her eyes.

I looked back at the President who has a deep smile on his face.

"I've been resting..." he began. Abbey turned to him, giving him a fixed stare that bordered a glare.  
"I don't think half of what you have been doing would be considered, 'resting', Jed."

He continued smiling, and turned to her.

"To me it was." Jed stated.  
"So sir, what have you been doing? I see that it has been, uh, relaxing for you at least..."

"Reading..."  
"A billion letters, not to mention -signing- reply letters," Mrs. Bartlet finished for him.

"I wouldn't say 'a billion', a million perhaps..." he said in a playful-defensive way. "I have nearly gone through all of the letters that were sent to me, get-well cards and pictures."

"And you have signed the reply letters all personally?" I asked, unable to hide my amazement.

"Not all of them yet." His wife looked at him when he had said the word, 'yet'.  
"I take it you have enjoyed them?"  
"Oh yes. You can ask Abbey."

"I recall I had to force you to go to sleep a few times, I nearly had to resort to confiscating them for you to stop and rest," she said smiling.

"But I -was- resting."

Mrs. Bartlet raised an eyebrow and stared at him.  
Ooh, don't know how he is still alive after that look...  
But it was clear that she was playing, and it was even clearer when she kissed him.

I gave them a moment before I started again.

"Mr. President, the past month has been filled with many struggles.  
"What are your feelings on how the nation and yourself have dealt with them?"

"The Nation has triumphed over them all, showing that She is truly the Nation of the Free and of the Brave," he said. His voice, I swear, shook the walls, not in volume, but in -True- Power.

"And what of yourself?" I asked.

"It was not I, but the Nation that has done the real work, I have only helped. For a president is nothing without the Nation," he replied.

"Sir, I believe many would also say that more often than not, the Nation -amounts- to nothing without a leading President."

He looked deeply at me.  
The words had spilled forth from me like water.  
I watched, unsure of what he would say to what I had said.

"Yes, you are right." He cleared his throat. "Though they both need to be to do what we have done."

"And they are," I added.  
He nodded slightly. "Yes."

I glanced down at the paper in my lap and continued.

"What were your thoughts as you met the people that had been directly involved when you went and visited the locations hit?"

He took a slow deep breath and exhaled.

"Ooo, uh...wow. How do I put this into words?"My first thought was asking myself why had they been hit? Why not a military post or something. But then I answered it when I met the countless Americans in the damaged streets and hospitals. "They are the Heart of America, that was why they had been hit. They stand for the true American way of life. They are Simple and yet Grand, Humble and yet Proud."

He shifted himself forward; placing his right hand on his leg for support, not phased at all by the fact the bandage and the light bruising slightly running up his neck was in clear view of all.

"When I stepped out onto those streets, pure anger and rage were honestly on the verge of pouring out of me. Walking along side with the rescue workers and volunteers that were no longer simply people, but heroes, was truly an experience I will never forget.

"My next thought was immediately, 'We will get these people. Show them the meaning of _True_ Justice. We will bring them down.'"

You could literally feel the energy radiating off of him.

"And we have," he said, not as loud as his previous statement, but just as strong.

"The day of the shooting. It is well known that it had not been planned for you to visit Amarillo. Can you tell us how the decision had come about for you to go there?"

"Oh, sure. I had been told that we should postpone or even cancel some of the places we had originally planned to go to. So I decided to postpone instead of cancel, and in the mean time, go somewhere that was on the way to the next city, as to allow for any increased security that they felt was needed for the larger cities. Amarillo was on the way, and since it was a smaller city, the initial thought was that it would be safer, and easier to manage security."

"If you could go back, would you change your choice about going there?"

He thought for a moment, leaning forward carefully, his elbow on his leg, and placing his right hand slightly over his mouth, thinking.

"No. No I wouldn't," he said, shaking his head a little.

I didn't know what to say, but that was ok, because he continued.

"Though, I think I would have decided to duck," he added, giving a smile, and slowly leaning back again.

"I think most of America, and the world, now would like to know, 'why'?"

"Because what done is done, I don't like thinking about what would have been if I would have done this, or wouldn't have done that. It all happened the way it did for a reason. If it hadn't happened there, it could have happened somewhere else, and it could have been worse."

"But it could have been better."

"I suppose we shall never know. But then, how can it matter to us now? We are the way we are now because of what has _happened_, not because of what _might_ have."

I nodded, unable to comprehend how this man is not only Great, but Wise also.

"What do you remember about the shooting?"

He looked down slightly, and you could tell there were flashes of that day playing out in his head.

"We were about to go to Air Force One, I remember feeling a little annoyed that I would not be able to visit the victims at the hospital with Abbey.  
"I remember looking out at the crowds of people, and turning to them and about to wave.  
"After that it was sort of a blur. I remember a loud continuous popping noise as I felt several things hit me at once.  
"The next thing I remember is my head bouncing off of the back seat and finding that it was hard to breathe.  
"It took me a moment to realize that I was the one bleeding. At first I thought it was Charlie."

He exhaled, unconsciously placing his arm against his side, as if trying to push the memory of that injury away.

I stayed silent as he then started again.

"That ten minute drive seemed to take hours," he said, squinting his eyes.

"Do you remember arriving at the hospital?"

"I remember the tight turn that brought us to the door...and uh...the board being placed under me. You know the weirdest thing I remember though?" he paused to rub the side of his face.

"They lifted me out of the limo; Charlie was on top of me, helping to slow the bleeding from my neck."

He did a short motion to the bandage clearly on his neck.

"And I was of course looking up at the sky. It was a perfect blue sky, crisp and clean, and yet down where I was, wasn't. And I think, 'How can a day like this go this bad?'  
"I look back at Charlie. I couldn't really hear anything anymore, and I know he was talking to me because I could see his lips moving, but I couldn't hear him. After that everything faded out."

"And then you woke up days later," I said, watching this man come back from a short flashback.

"Mr. President, there are several uh, rumors, I suppose, going around, involving the manner in which you woke up. How did you really wake up?"

"Oh, yeah, about that--"  
"He woke up angry." Mrs. Bartlet stated, seeing that her husband wasn't going to say it out right.  
"I'd say more like 'concerned' and a little confused, but that's just me..." he said sheepishly.  
"'A little?'"

"Ok, what happened? this is obviously an interesting story," I said, unable to stop my curiosity.  
"Not really..." the President muttered.

"He woke up and tried to pull the tube that was helping him breathe out." Mrs. Bartlet said frankly, as if she still couldn't believe it herself.

"It wasn't helping. I tried to talk. It choked me," he argued back.

"Well, what you decided to do didn't help."  
"How was I supposed to know?"

"Ok, so let me get this straight..." They pause and look at me. "You woke up and tried to take your breathing tube out?" "From my point of view it wasn't a breathing tube," he said simply.

I looked over and see Mrs. Bartlet shaking her head.

"Oh, that wasn't the only thing," she informed me.  
"He did something else?" I asked.

Man, this was getting good.

"Alright, now before you tell them what I did, I want to make it clear that I didn't mean to do that. I was confused and--"

He then attempted to get serious, but the way his wife was looking at him, he failed. "You wake up and find yourself unable move your head, let alone breathe and then feel what seems like a hundred hands trying to hold you down, and you tell me you are going to remain calm."

"I don't think I would have knocked a doctor to the floor."

My eyes grew wide, and I leaned forward a little, watching them go back and forth.

"I hadn't meant to do that, I just wanted them away from me."  
"You got one of them away from you, that's for sure."

"I apologized," he reminded her, "and at least he now has a story to tell."

"Yeah, he can now say, 'the President had once punched me to the ground while he was still in a neck brace and still had a breathing tube.'"

"I'm just glad I didn't hit him in the face."  
"I'm sure he is too."

"Well, I calmed down pretty quickly," he said, trying to make a come back from Mrs. Bartlet's slightly humorous onslaught (ok, so it was really funny).

"To the doctors and agents' relief."

The President gave a little sigh, and gave me a look that I read as, 'save me'.

"And later that very same day was when you addressed the nation," I supply.  
"Yes," he said, a small look of relief on his face.

"People are already saying that that may have been one of the greatest statements you gave during your presidency; but if you don't mind me saying so, you looked a little tired after that. There are some reports that you needed assistance returning to your room."

"I won't lie, I was tired." He looked over at Abbey, and I was able to discern that there was some sort of secret communication going on. "Yeah, pushed myself a little thin, but I did what I felt I needed to do." He paused and gently rubbed his right side before putting his hand back on his knee.

"So the reports were correct, you needed help?"  
"Yeah. Wheelchair. But the next day I was fine, I had just needed rest."  
"For you left the very next day," I agreed, nodding.

"Yes. Though I am very thankful for everyone that helped me at the hospital, I was very glad to return back to the White House."

"So how would you explain the past month?"

I watched as he fully relaxed, pausing to think.

"Red."

It was one word. One that I quickly associated with anger and blood.

"And I know you are now connecting the color red with blood..."  
He paused, shifted himself back against the backrest.  
"One of the letters I received explained something to me. I have it memorized; it is one of many that I have that were apart of the letters sent to me.

"It read:

"'Red is more than a color  
"'Red is Anger  
"'Red is Passion  
"'Red is Love

"'Yes, blood is Red  
"'But so is something else:

"'Healed wounds.'"

He smiled as he then said, "Our colors are not Red White and Blue for nothing."

I knew the time was up, and Mrs. Bartlet was giving me a hidden look that said she felt her husband needed to go.

I smiled, and gave a nod and extended my hand.

"Mr. President."

He stood up and I followed suit, shaking his hand.

"John."

We said our pleasantries, the cameras were turned off, and I watched in awe as the First Couple exited the Green Room, side by side, her arm around him.

- - -


	10. Pt 10 Final

**Red - Part 10 Final  
**

* * *

Abbey stepped into the bathroom, Jed just having gotten out of the shower, a towel tied around his waste.

"You look better," she said, stepping behind him, her figure coming in view of the mirror.

The three marks that had once been dark and painful were now nothing more than a shadow, and his side was now a light brown color, the rib now fully healed.

"I hope so, it has been more than a few weeks..." he said, turning his head a little and letting his fingers trace the now thin scab, around which was new reddish-pinkish skin.

There was no doubt that it would be a scar, a couple millimeters thick, several inches long, stitch scars already forming around it, but he would carry it.

He smiled.

"What?" she whispered, stepping closer to him.  
"Healed wounds..." he muttered.  
"...are Red," she finished, now wrapping her arms around his bare chest, and kissing his neck.

"I love you," she whispered, his arms now holding hers around him.  
"I love you, too."

- - -

**Jed**

"Good morning, sir," Leo says, entering the Oval office; I am sitting behind the desk.  
"Hey, Leo."

I try not to smile as Leo stares at me, well mostly at my neck.

"Uh, do you need anything sir?" he asks.  
"No, anything going on?" I ask, looking up at him.  
"No, nothing at all..."

Ok, I know that tone; something is going on...

"What? You can say something you know. Abbey said I don't need to have it on anymore; didn't really need to be wearing it long before this point, but I didn't want to scare anyone."

I was no longer wearing the bandage. My nearly healed wound was now out in the open for all the world to see.

I feel quite free now, and yet, I know it's silly, but I feel sort of naked. The same kind of naked when I don't have my wedding ring on.

"Doesn't scare me, might scare Josh though."

Oh, never thought about that...

"Sir, I'm kidding. Really sir, I am just surprised that you hadn't torn that thing off a long time ago."  
"Me too, but it was better looking than the stitches or the nice line of butterfly band-aids."  
"It's going to be a doozy of a scar, sir," saying it in a way that made it sound like it was a medal.

"Abbey says it makes me look more distinguished."  
"That it does sir, like A Badge of Honor."  
"Really?" I ask, giving it a gentle touch.

He gives me a smile and nods.

"I'll go back to work, looks like you have a few files to go through as well, sir," he says, glancing over at the miniature Mount Everest of papers beside me.

He leaves me to it, the Oval now empty, except for the agents who are more like furniture than anything else half the time.

Behind me the White House lawn is white with snow, it having snowed the night before. I turn around to glance outside to find it snowing again.

Oh what I would give for a smoke...but Abbey would kill me.  
According to her, I am still 'healing'.

- - -

**Leo**

"Charlie, are you sure you have everything ready?" I ask him.  
"Yes sir."  
"And he doesn't suspect anything, correct?" I ask.  
"I don't think so."  
"And Abbey?"  
"No."  
"Good."

We are standing in the Green Room, CJ, Ron, Jacobs, Toby, Josh, Tim the cook, and the others are in the room.

"Who is going to get them?" CJ asks.  
"We haven't decided yet?" Josh questions.  
"Have we even thought how we are going to do this?" I ask.

Everyone mumbles, 'uh'.

"Great, and we are the people running the country..." I hear Toby mutter behind me.  
"Um, we could say that the other wants them to meet them here..." Charlie suggests.

That kid is a genius, I swear.

"Yeah that sounds good," Josh agreed.  
"Alright, Ron, Jacobs, would you do the honors?"

They depart, giving me a nod as they exit toward the door.

- - -

**Jacobs**

"Sir, how are we going to do this exactly?" I ask Ron.

He then reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a long silk black cloth and hands it to me.

"Blind fold him. Tell him his wife told you to do this. Tell him she told you to lead you to the Green Room. Tell him to be silent, and that his wife wants to show him something in the Green Room."

"You want me to blind fold the President of the United States?" I ask, verifying.

He nods.

"I am going to do the same to Mrs. Bartlet so they won't see each other."  
"Alright, I'll see you in the Green Room then."

We then go, Ron to the Residence, myself to the Oval.

I step in; I don't think he heard me come in.

"Mr. President," I ask, trying to hid my excitement; I think he caught sight of a little of it anyways.

"Yes, Lee?"  
"Uh, Mrs. Bartlet wants you in the Green Room."  
"Ah, now?" he asks.

I nod.

"Oh, alright." He states.

He steps from behind the desk and starts towards the door.

"Uh, sir..." I lift the black cloth in my hand.  
"What's that for?"  
"Um, she said to blind fold you."

He gave me an inquiring look, then grinned.

"Oh, she would..." he walks to me. "Ok, go on."

He turns around so I can put the blind fold on him. I tie it securely.

"Oh, and she also said not to talk until the blind fold comes off and you."  
"Demanding isn't she? Alright, lead on."

I then take his arm and lead him to the Green Room.

- - -

**Ron**

"Ma'am," I announced myself, knocking on the open door.  
"Come in," came her voice within.

I walked in, Abbey looking up to me from a book. Seeing it was me, she stood.

"Is everything alright?" she asked immediately.  
"Yes, the President just wants you to meet him in the Green Room."  
"Did he say why?" she asked.  
"Not exactly, just said to bring you there blindfolded..."

At first I was afraid she wouldn't fall for it and that I was going to need to come up with something else...

"Alright."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief, having tied the blind fold and now leading her out.

- - -

**Charlie**

We looked to see both Lee and Ron standing outside the open doors, their 'prisoners' in hand, both now unable to hide their grins. Even Ron was smiling.

They silently led them in.

All of us with giant smiles on our faces, even Toby.  
How we had pulled this off without either of them knowing was a miracle.

"Alright, you can take the your blindfold off now..." Ron said, stepping aside.

Both Jed and Abbey took off their blindfolds, their eyes now able to see what we had all prepared for them.

We broke out in loud applause.

Jed and Abbey both looked at each other, both realizing they had both been pleasantly tricked.

We hushed, the First Couple a little overwhelmed for a moment.

"We thought it was time to celebrate," Leo explained, stepping up.

Jed didn't wait for him to make the next move. He went forward and gave him a hug.  
His chest apparently no longer sore.

They parted, Jed and Abbey now standing side by side once again.

"Oh, how I am proud to say that you all have got my back," Jed said, his eyes scanning us all.

His eyes came to rest on me for a moment. It was as if time stopped, even though I know his eyes only had locked with mine for a few seconds.  
I look at this wonder of a man who is so deep and full of passion, his eyes so sharp and yet so gentle.  
I give a short nod, and he returns it before his gaze continues to the others in the room.

We all took in the moment, Jed's eyes now coming to rest on the back table.

"Food?" he asked, sounding hungry.  
"Pie," Abbey whispered, smiling.  
"Tim suggested it," Jacobs said; Jed turned to the old cook and smiled.

It didn't take long for us all to become relaxed and begin enjoying the pie.

We all were in a circle, some of us sitting, others standing. Abbey and Jed sitting together on the side couch.

"You know, if we weren't in a room where I am afraid to make a stain," Jed said, putting his fork down on his plate and getting that mischievous smile, his eyes meeting Abbey's.

"What would be said of us if we decided to do that?" Abbey asked.

None of us understood what they were talking about, just knew it was something we probably wanted to stay out of.

"Oh, they would probably include it in the tour," he said, now lifting the remainder of his pie with his bare hand. "And say, 'oh, and here is where President Jed Bartlet started the food fight.'"

"Jed...you better n-..." Abbey breathed, trying to sound stern, but it held more apprehension than anything else as Jed brought the pie up to place it in her mouth for a bite.

"I don't start food fights...I finish them." He stated, placing the bitten pie back on the plate.

"Last time I was being nice, because I had an unfair advantage."  
"Excuses..." Jed replied, smiling.

- - -

**Ron**

The little party was now over, I think Leo was relieved; Abbey and Jed kept threatening a food fight.

A little while later, we entered the Oval office, Jacobs having radioed me, saying the President wanted to see us, and he added that we were to wear a coat and gloves.

Coming in, we found the room empty.

Odd.

But then I saw the President's figure walking outside, far out on the snowy White House lawn. A black suited protector not even a dozen yards away from him: Jacobs.

"What on earth is he doing out there?" Leo asked, going out, Charlie, CJ, Abbey, Debbie, and myself behind him.

"Sir!" Leo shouted, making the President turn around.

"Took you all long enough!" he shouted back, smiling, something round and white in his gloved hands.

We went out to him, confused as to what was going on.  
.  
.

I saw it coming, but it hit me before I could do anything about it.  
I looked down to see white snow on my chest.  
Charlie beside me, unable to suppress a laugh, Abbey and Jed laughing openly.

I saw Charlie bend down and gather snow, Jed already up with another hand full, compacting. Before I knew it, Leo and Jed were exchanging snow fire, Jed hitting Leo in the shoulder.

From the corner of my eye I saw Abbey swing her arm back and then throw a perfect sphere of white at Jed, hitting him directly on the back of the head.

He quickly turned around, knelt down and gathered a large amount of snow before compacting it. He then ran after Abbey. Abbey tried to run, laughing all the way.

We were all enjoying ourselves now, even myself.

I gathered up my projectile, my eyes set on Jacobs.  
I quickly realized the President and Jacobs were working together, two teams having somehow come about between the eight of us.  
Jacobs, Debbie, Charlie and Jed, against Abbey, Leo, CJ, and myself.

'I knew my special training would come in handy someday', I thought as I hit Jacobs on the side with my snowball.

I can't remember the last time I had that much fun in the snow.  
We played for the rest of the day, the sun now setting.

- - -

**Jacobs**

We were now tired, our fingers we could no longer feel. Our footprints were all over the ground, and our poor attempts at building little forts were scattered throughout.

We stopped; tired and realizing the President had his back turned to us, looking at something.  
He was facing the setting sun.

We all slowly walked to this great man and stopped beside him.

Abbey stepped beside him; his arm moved and wrapped itself around her.

We all stood in silence, the purple, pink, orange, and Red filling up the Horizon.  
The white snow was now reflecting the remainder of the sun's light, casting a calming illumination across the grounds, our shadows stretching forth behind us.

I stood to the left of this man of wonder and took a slow look at him.  
My eyes passed over him, and glanced at the soon to be scar on his neck.  
His face glazed with the Red light of Dusk.

I smiled slightly as I turned my gaze back at the other wonder before myself and the others.  
The first stars of the night appearing above us, the crisp colored lights of dusk stretching all along the land ahead of us.

- - -

The End

If you liked this story, please review and say so :). If you have any complaints, please share, all I ask is that they be honest and gentle. I don't turn down useful criticism.

Thanks for reading and dealing with my slowly improving grammar. :P


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